Love, Organized?
by FlaFan
Summary: Johnny's point of view about an unexpected relationship (not his).


**Love, Organized?**

 _Johnny's point of view about an unexpected relationship (not his)._

 _Notes: I have a brief mention of the "other" Craig Brice (which I wrote about in "The Two Mr. Brices"). Also, I called "8's" captain - played by Lloyd Haynes in "Equipment" - "Sonny Stone" because I thought there was a scene in which Johnny called him "Sonny." (It may have been "Stoney," which Johnny called him throughout the episode.)_

Well, it was a pretty good meal – the wedding cake, too.

There are a bunch of nurses gathered for the throwing of the bridal bouquet. Funny – none of those nurses seemed to be in sight at Rampart when I was looking for a date to this thing.

That's OK. My "date" for the day, Jenny DeSoto, has fallen asleep in my lap. And she was looking forward to catching the bouquet, too.

Next to me, poor Chris DeSoto wants to take off that clip-on tie. He's scratching at his collar. Joanne and Roy have tried to stop him, but no joy. I know how he feels.

At the next table is Dixie McCall, next to Dr. Brackett. They've been on and off more than the light switch in the Station 51 latrine after Chet Kelly's stew. Roy tells me he thinks they're on again. Or maybe not.

Nothing like testing the theory – maybe. "Not gonna catch the bouquet, Dixie?" I ask.

She frowns. "John Gage, I stopped catching bridal bouquets long ago."

I don't dare look at Dr. Brackett. I don't want to know his reaction. But I do hear Dr. Early chuckle.

"Joe Early, don't you start," Dixie says.

Now I do look back, in time to see Dr. Early hold up his hands, as if he's surrendering.

"I wasn't going to say a word, Dix," he says.

Well. Why are we gathered here today, in sight of many from the Los Angeles County Fire Department and Rampart General Hospital?

Flash back to that brief time a few months ago when we had to fill out paperwork to get our supplies for the squad. Nurse Ratched – uh, Wilma Patterson – was in charge of the paperwork. She was almost as bad as the nurse who did her General Patton imitation with me after I got hit by that car.

My flirting didn't help. But Dixie did, and she got Nurse Patterson reassigned.

We thought that was the end of it until I had to serve a shift with Craig Brice.

Roy had managed to catch the flu from his kids, so Brice came in as a substitute.

Immediately, I noticed Brice was acting strangely. Not only wasn't he pestering me about organizing the drug box, he wasn't organizing it himself.

"Looks fine, John," he said.

 _John?!_ Calling me by my first name?! That's not like Brice.

It got stranger….He let me drive the squad without an argument!

By the time we got to Rampart to pick up supplies, I was a little confused.

It turned to a lot confused when he said, "I'll meet you at the nurses' station, John. Be back in a few minutes."

I was stunned. Brice won't usually even take a bathroom break at Rampart.

I went to the nurses' station to pick up the supplies and grab some coffee. "What's going on?" Dixie asked.

"That's what I'd like to know, Dix. Brice is acting weird."

"What do you mean, 'weird?'"

I recounted the odd events of that morning to Dixie. She smiled, which proved even more puzzling.

"Well of course, Johnny," she said. "He's in love."

I choked on my coffee. Dixie, determining I didn't need the Heimlich maneuver – not yet, anyway – settled for patting me on the back.

When I'd gotten my voice back, I asked, "He's in WHAT?!"

"He's in love," Dixie repeated. "With Nurse Patterson."

"Who's Nurse Patterson?"

"You remember – the supply nurse. Wilma Patterson."

Dixie smiled as she watched me; Roy has said she's entertained by watching my facial expressions. Can't imagine why anyone would be interested in that.

Then it hit me. "Oh, not the nurse you had-" I stopped when Dixie held a hand up.

I forgot. Dixie's actions in the transfer are one of those open secrets at Rampart – kind of like when Roy and I had to treat Dixie for her injuries before the paramedic bill became law.

Dixie watched me some more. I guess my facial expressions must have been something to see.

"Oh, man, those two?!"

"Yes, Johnny – those two."

I put my cup of coffee down. I'd lost my appetite – something that doesn't happen very much, even if I'm seriously injured.

"Man, Dix, do you know what this means? They might get married and have children!"

"It's been known to happen," Dixie agreed.

"But, Dix, those poor kids! I mean, they're gonna have to alphabetize their toys in the toy box, do their homework with five carbon copies-"

Now Dixie laughed. "I don't think it'll be that bad, Johnny. Marriage and kids might soften them up. You yourself said Craig Brice was acting strangely."

Just then, Brice walked up. He said, "Hi Dixie."

Now, she looked surprised. Brice usually refers to her as "Nurse McCall," never by her first name.

"How are you, Craig? How's Wilma?" Dixie can really turn on the charm or the cheer when the occasion calls for it.

"Oh, just fine!"

"Going good for you two, huh?" I asked.

Now Brice smiled, which really threw me off. I think I liked him better when he was The Walking Rulebook.

I couldn't take this anymore. "OK, Brice, let's go," I said. "Duty calls."

Then, just to make sure, I spoke into the Handi-Talkie. "Squad 51 available," complete with Sam Lanier's reassuring "Squad 51" back. I needed to hear something normal.

Brice blushed. "Right, John," he said. "Uh, bye, Dixie."

I smiled back at Dixie. "Bye, Dix."

If Dixie likes to watch facial expressions, she should've been there when I told Roy about Brice.

"It can't be him," Roy said. "Maybe it's the other Craig Brice – you know, that engineer at 17s…."

"Naw. Remember? That Craig Brice is married and has two kids," I said. "It's 'The Walking Rulebook.' He's fallen in love with 'Nurse Paperwork.' Ya know, when you think about it, Roy, it makes sense."

"Nothing about this could possibly make sense, Johnny."

"Nothing about what?" Chet has a habit of walking in at the inappropriate time in a conversation – which is usually all the time.

"Craig Brice is in love," Roy told him.

Chet's eyes got big. "With a human?" he asked.

I reminded Chet about Nurse Patterson and the paperwork.

"Oh, Babe, don't remind me about paperwork." Chet put up a hand. "That was when Cap was giving Marco and me those computer coded nightmares…."

I rolled my eyes. Chet was going to keep complaining about this for a while, so I turned back to Roy.

"Sure it makes sense, Roy. I mean, they're both a pain in the neck to others, but together…."

Roy sighed. "Yeah, together, they could destroy the world with paperwork and the alphabet."

That was the end of it. Or so we thought.

Then Cap was handing out the mail one day.

"Hmmm. Monogrammed envelopes to Mr. and Mrs. Roy DeSoto and Family and Mr. John Gage." Cap sounded impressed as he handed them to us.

"Monogrammed? Who did you guys rescue?" That was Mike Stoker.

"Don't know," Roy said. The envelopes seemed to have come from the same place. We both looked at the address on the back. It didn't look familiar.

"Well, open them," Cap ordered in a friendly – and curious - way.

OK. We did.

Some people have suggested that Roy and I have the capacity to communicate with each other without words. We certainly do on the job. This time, we both read what was inside the envelope and looked at each other.

"Think we have to go?" Roy asked.

I shook my head. "I dunno."

"Well, what is it?" Cap asked.

Roy sighed and read:

" _Mr. and Mrs. Wilmont Patterson,_

 _Mr. and Mrs. Chandler Brice –"_

"Wait a minute – Wilmont? Chandler?" Chet couldn't believe it.

Roy continued:

" _Invite you to the marriage of their children,_

 _Wilma Penelope,_

 _And_

 _Craig Barrett,_

 _At six o'clock in the evening,_

 _Saturday June 18,_

 _Nineteen hundred and seventy-seven,_

 _At the Wintergreen Country Club-"_

"Wow!" That was Marco. "Wintergreen's a pretty spiffy place!"

I turned to Roy. "Should we go?"

"I don't know," Roy said.

"Well, we have time to decide," I said. I held up the reply card. "About a month."

Three weeks later, we'd decided. Or rather, Joanne had decided. I guess if women have the chance to dress up, they want to go.

Actually, Jenny had decided. "Do I get to wear lipstick, Mommy?" was her question to Joanne about this wedding.

Well, Roy was at the mercy of his girls. So was Chris. "Do I have to wear a tie, Dad?" was his question to Roy.

"Would you like to come to the wedding with me?" was my question to about a dozen nurses at Rampart. I didn't have to explain what wedding.

It didn't matter, though. I got excuses ranging from "I already have a date" to "That's the day I water my plants."

Bless Roy. When I was complaining, he said, "You know, Nurse Patterson isn't exactly the most popular nurse on staff. It's not you, Johnny, it's her."

"You think so?"

He smiled. "Well, Jenny's happy to be your date. And she gets to wear lipstick, too."

I'm glad Brice sent the word to wear dress uniforms. I wouldn't have wanted to repeat what happened when I rented those tuxedos for Roy and me to wear to that party at the actor Vic Webster's house. That was embarrassing; the only other guys who had tuxes were the waiters.

That doesn't help Chris, though. He's got that clip-on tie. And he's not a bit happy.

"Christopher DeSoto, stop clutching at your tie," Joanne whispered as we sat, waiting for the ceremony.

Jenny leaned up to me. "I'm glad we girls get to wear dresses and lipstick and don't need clip-on ties, Uncle Johnny," she whispered.

"Me, too," I whispered back.

There were a lot of pretty girls with dresses and lipstick – including some of the nurses who told me they couldn't come to this wedding. They came with other dates, of course. Aw man…..

Roy, who was sitting on the other side of Jenny, looked around. "You know, there seems to be a lot more – well, a lot MORE – than we saw at Vic Webster's house," he said. I knew what he meant; more money in this crowd – outside of the paramedics and nurses, of course.

"A lot more what, Daddy?" Jenny asked.

"A lot more people, Ladybug," I said, smiling at her. Let Jenny discover these things when she's older, please. Roy smiled at me in appreciation.

Jenny nodded. "Well, this isn't a house," she said. "It's much bigger."

"I'll say," I agreed.

Organ music began to play. The first people we spotted were Brice and his paramedic partner, Bob Bellingham, who was his best man. Brice looked as nervous as when Roy had used Robert's Rules of Order at that paramedic meeting.

Bellingham – known as "The Animal" for his messy ways – was actually dressed neatly. Brice must've helped him.

In came the ushers – the rest of the gang from Station 36, where Brice and Bellingham work. They looked like they were going to an execution. I looked back at Brice; he still had the same nervous look on his face. Man, is that what it's like to get married?

Along came the bridesmaids, all smiling, all seeming to look alike. I didn't notice any of the Rampart nurses among them.

Then, the organist played "Here Comes the Bride." I winced; I hate the way that song sounds. Stoker, who sometimes finds interesting facts, found out that the music is from an opera in which the bride dies. Yikes!

Out came Nurse Patterson…uh, Wilma, on the arm of her father. Over Jenny's head, Roy poked me in the shoulder; stand up.

I would have, anyway. Man, she looked like a knockout.

In the hospital, she was OK-looking when she wasn't asking for five copies of requests for IVs. But she'd really gotten gussied up. And she was smiling! Who would've thought?

I looked across the room at Brice. I'd never seen him look so stunned. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

I looked back at her. I guess I understood a little of what he saw in her. Still, Brice being in love…Well, if it can happen to The Walking Rulebook, I guess it can happen to anyone.

Wilma reached the front, Brice took her hand and the ceremony began. Y'know, when you see all those wedding ceremonies in the movies or on television, it's different.

In real life, you only get to see everyone's back at a wedding.

Well, almost always. I went to the wedding of a lineman at 127's who's Jewish. He and his bride faced the crowd. The bride, her mother and his mother went around him seven times. No one got dizzy, though.

Would Wilma circle Brice 7 times? Probably the opposite.

And there was Stoney's wedding. Captain Sonny Stone of 8's, who graduated from the same paramedic class as me, married Connie White, a teacher, with a gospel choir singing behind them – or in front of them. That was pretty neat.

"By the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

I was so busy thinking about people's backs, gospel choirs and everything that I hadn't realized the ceremony had gotten to this point. I looked up; I just had to see what kind of a kiss Brice would plant on her.

Well, it was what I expected. A peck on the lips. Not much to see.

Wonder how it will be when they're behind closed doors. Actually – No, I don't want to know how it would be for those two behind closed doors. Never mind.

So that's where we are. At the reception.

Here come the bride and groom. Wilma Brice is actually smiling.

"Thank you for coming to our wedding," Craig Brice says.

Roy and I sometimes start talking at the same time, and we did here. "Oh, we were happy…" He begins.

"Glad to be here," I start.

"Well, thanks again…" Brice began.

"Dear? Time to go," Wilma exhorted with the same voice she used on us when she was giving us supplies.

"Gage, DeSoto," Brice nods at us. Back to last names.

Roy and I look at each other. As the bride and groom walk away, we can't resist a chuckle. Joanne joins us.

"Honeymoon over already?" I ask.

"He did look a little…" Roy begins.

"A little what, Roy?" Joanne asks.

"Henpecked," comes out of my mouth. Well, better me than Roy; Joanne isn't married to me.

"What did you say, John Gage?" she asks. Roy passes me a silent "Thanks" with his eyes.

Might as well plunge in. "You know - henpecked, Joanne," I say. "Because it's her. Not the way Roy feels with you, of course."

Joanne looks at me, then Roy, who has a smile of relief. "Of course," she says with a smile. "Well, let's take some of this dessert and these two little ones-"

"Little ones?! Aw Mom!" That's Chris.

"OK, the little one and the bigger one," says Joanne while she musses Chris' hair. "And the paramedics – including the one who just saved his partner a good deal of grief." She smiles at us. There's no fooling Joanne. "And we'll have some ice cream with this cake."

Well, the Brices get their monogrammed towels and their home where everything will be nice and neat – at least until kids come along.

But as I pick up my still-sleeping date, and look at her big brother holding hands with his parents as we stroll out of the hall, I think life – and love – are better when they're a little disorganized.

Maybe someday, I'll find a girl who agrees.


End file.
